


Talk To You

by jumbi



Series: Filling the Void [7]
Category: Super Paper Mario (Game)
Genre: Gen, nassy is trapped in her closed loop as much as blue is, pregame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 14:27:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19064515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumbi/pseuds/jumbi
Summary: nastasia is a fusser, a helper, a fixer. so when something breaks it's easy to blame herself.





	Talk To You

**Author's Note:**

> this short scene takes place in my larger comic story "filling the void". it takes place between scenes 58 (in which nastasia and o'chunks search for the count, who has wandered off in another fugue) and 59 (nastasia and o'chunks discover how much they have in common, and she begins to trust him).

“O’Chunks says I should try talking to you.”

She stood at the Count’s side, arms folded behind her back professionally, watching him fail to react to her approach. “Can you hear…” she started, instinctively, before cutting herself off. No questions. No suggestions or commands. She noted that his book was closed next to him, so she sat down on his other side and stared ahead. The Count’s gaze was not quite lined up with the horizon.

“Um, this feels weird,” she muttered. She’d told stories to the Count  _before_ , to fill the silence, but back then she’d always felt like she was telling them to a  _person_. Now…

To avoid finishing that thought she checked around behind her shoulder and the Count’s for any trouble. He should really have been in the tent, but the Count always seemed to end up outside. He was slippery, even drifting around like a lifeless zombie.

Nastasia frowned. That had slipped out. He was still her boss. He still called the shots. She fidgeted and tugged at the purple grass and leaned her head back to watch the purple pines wave gently in the afternoon breeze. She had to resist the urge to move him closer to the tent, so she clenched and unclenched her fists in her lap.

She nearly jumped when she realized the Count had turned his head slightly and was staring at her. There was no recognition in his blank eyes, but perhaps he had registered that she’d so awkwardly trailed off. She’d only watched them interact, but by now O’Chunks seemed so good at just making up the Count’s responses and having a conversation that way. But to her he seemed… silent. Serene where he had once made a fuss over her. Entirely absent. She wondered if there was even anything left of her Blumiere in that shell. There  _had_  to be. He was still there, sometimes. She’d seen it…

She rubbed her eyes under her glasses. Too tired. Losing control of her thoughts. It wasn’t hard at all to sit with him and work, and keep him company, but putting her full attention on him made it clear how little there was to him. The utter lack of anything going on behind his normally tired but understanding eyes made her want to squirm. But still he stared.

Her open hands sat limply in her lap, her head bowed. “I don’t have a story for you, sir,” she admitted. “I don’t know what to talk about. I wish you could tell me what you want to hear.”

He was still as a statue. She wasn’t sure if he even blinked.

Nastasia shifted her weight, unsure whether to move farther from or closer to the Count.  _What’s on your mind_ , he would have asked, if he were awake.

The corners of her mouth dragged downward. “I miss you.”

Of course, if he’d been awake, that wouldn’t have been enough. She should push herself. Keep talking. Orazio had been so much better at gabbing… The only reason she’d let him talk during meetings was because he’d been such an entertaining speaker. Good for morale, if they had the time. And now they had so much time.

“Yeah, I guess, just between you and me, this feels like it’s definitely all my fault. So, yeah. I didn’t know the right things to say and now you’re gone… Maybe forever. But if I could try again and start over, I still don’t know what the right things would have been. I don’t know why this all happened, or even, exactly,  _what_  happened. I wish you had told me more, but that’s on me for not asking enough. Your privacy was important to you, boss. But I just…” She pushed her hair behind her ear and let it fall back in front of her eye. “I don’t know anything. You know?”

Deep breath. She could tell she was getting flushed around her eyes. But her glasses hid that, as always. “I just want to fix this. Whatever’s broken, I could fix it…”

She didn’t want to finish that thought either. He was so silent and still, it was easy to get carried away, especially without O’Chunks to help keep her focused… When she glanced back up at him, she flinched.

He had such a  _grave_  look on his face. His hands were braced against the ground, but the slight tremor in the blade of his elbow gave away his indecision. For once, there was something in his eyes: desperation.

Nastasia was on her feet instantly. “What is it? What do you need?”

The sudden movement seemed to startle him. His eyes became unfocused again.

“No- sir- stay here,” she begged. “Come back.” Before she could stop herself she reached out with shaking hands and held his face. “Come back.”

“ _Unhand Count Bleck,_ ” he mumbled, his words somewhat muffled by her grip.

Nastasia gritted her teeth and let her head hang. She wasn’t ready to let go. The Count waited a few seconds, and then repeated himself tonelessly. No sense of urgency or care. Just a reaction to being touched. He wouldn’t stop her. She forced her eyes shut and bit her lip until her fangs poked into the skin. She kneeled down and moved her hands to his hand, and pulled him upright. The book rose behind him, taking its place just above his shoulder. He was easy to lead. Followed directions promptly, if he could. He was a good team player like that.

“Come on,” she struggled to keep her voice level. “Let’s go over to the tent. It’s safer.”


End file.
